Saturday, August 05, 2017

He Is My Brother



Today is my brother Ross's birthday.. He's older than I am five years old and I am. We are relatively close as brothers go. We're both adopted. I'm sure I have confessed this before in the pages of this blog but I believe is worth detailing again. Ross and I were adopted by my mother before she met and married my dad. I know that sounds a bit convoluted but it's the way that it went down. In fact, and I do not know the story though I wish I did, my brother Ross is a Canadian. My mother was Canadian But I do not think that one has anything to do with the other. I'm sure I have a great adoption story but it can't be as good as my brothers and the whole Canadian thing.

It's funny how time seems to heal all wounds. I think I had a relatively good childhood. I believe I was plagued by my older brother who seem to delight in physically abusing me. From the earliest memories I have Ross was there bothering me. He literally beat me up all the time. Put plastic bags over my head closed off the very around my neck and waited until I exhausted all the oxygen inside the bag. This was terrifying but I survived. I was terrified of dead things and Ross knew Iwas terrified of dead things yet Ross took great delight In chased me around the barnyard with a dead cat, face trapped in rictus of death, and finally throwing the dead beast at me. I survived. I don't think the experience terrified me to the point of psychoanalysis or the need thereof but I still think about the incidents. We talked about these things. I think for the family we both agreed these issues are part of growing up. I know there were a lot of little brothers who had life a lot worse than I.

Time goes by and we call each other a couple times a year. For sure on our birthdays and I have tried to keep in touch especially when my brother was going through his cancer treatments. Oh yes, I got the broken neck and he got to cancer. Ross went to war and did okay, actually Ross did great In the game of war. Ross is a natural born hunter. He has red hair just like the hunter from Scripture. It makes sense that he did so well in Vietnam.. We now tend to support each other as much as we can long-distance. I would like to spend more time with my brother but whereas I cannot travel independently anymore that is kind of out of the question especially since I can no longer drive myself. Even if I took the train to Boise nobody has an accessible room. I guess I could stay in a motel but this don't be the issues of getting around it unless we just stayed are met and accessible venues. Even if we did that there's still the issue of pooping and giving me in and out of the bed since I doubt I will have access to an electric bed as I do a home. By home I mean this apartment.


So every couple months we visit on the phone and the visit feels good. I am still part of the overall family whereas I think my brother has stepped away with sort of hurts me. I sometimes find myself caught in between and acting as the translator trying to explain of how come this an how come that? I did not mind being the translator after all he's not having he's my brother

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